


Two Parts of One

by Lex_Noctis



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/F, infinite cycle of rebirth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 16:34:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8453686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lex_Noctis/pseuds/Lex_Noctis
Summary: It's hard to remember all the lives two entwined souls had spend orbiting each other, and it's different every time we meet again. But in this life, in this time, in the world that is harsh, where you fell from the Sky and stepped back into my life - now and here, I do. I remember. Do you, Clarke?





	

**Author's Note:**

> A small Clexa Soulmates drabble. Blame @damneliza for it since she inadvertently gave me the idea. Be warned, major feels ahead! (Reposted on ao3 for reasons not worth getting into.)

It’s hard to remember that far back, but some things have never changed. From the first second of the first time, on one stormy day, from that point onward while the world changed around, while cities grew and civilizations fell, some remained the same.

My eyes were always green and yours have always been blue. Such a striking, electric hue. And every time I caught your eye anew, my breath would falter. Like a strike of lightening your eyes would pierce my heart, my soul, and in that moment – every single time – I’d know. You hair shone with gold in every life and all I could think of was how the sun must have kissed you when you were born. Every time. No matter if it was covered with mud or blood, was cropped short by a callous hand or grown out in luxury, the first thought in my head remained the same.

We never found out why or how it happened, the only truth for us had been that it did. The reason and method remain a mystery to me to this day, as they most likely will remain. And, placing a hand on my heart, I do not care either way.

It had never been the same for us. Something had changed time after time, remained fluid in one way or the other. Only the eyes and at times also the golden locks had been a constant, just as much as the frantic beat of my heart every time I meet you again. Sometimes I would be the one to remember, other times – only you. But we always began to remember close to each other. A few blessed blessed meetings, one in a thousand, both of us knew from the beginning.  

The first time we met… I can not remember that. It must have been too long ago for fragile human memory to retain.

The first one I remember… We met in the king’s court. The great Hammurabi created the first empire of man. Though, politics and power held little meaning to us, for we had met each other and the Earth had shifted. The city of Babylon suddenly was more beautiful than ever. Our happiness in finding each other and starting to remember was short-lived. We had been trampled by horses together on the way to the market.

I can remember a thousand lives after that. Both happy and lonely ones. Short and long. The ones when we found each other early and the ones that drew past without the meeting taking place. I remember walking up to the Temple raised in Athena’s honor and seeing you at the top of the stairs and thinking I was granted a vision of Aphrodite herself. I remember traveling past the rice fields in the escort with my father, the shogun, on his inspection of the province, and catching the glimpse of you working in the fields. I remember watching Alexandria burn before my very eyes and then hearing a call for help as you emerged from the smoke and the flames right into my arms. I remember us meeting twice wearing the Roman attire – on the streets of Rome and shores of Constantinople. We were there when Leonardo painted and have seen Venice build. We died of plague in Paris and we watched the sunsets in the Kingdom of Denmark.

We fought on different sides of wars. And on the same side, together.

We lived long, peaceful lives away from the chaos of World War I.

We passed each other by for many generations, but we had found each other again and again and again.

We have met a hundred times before the New World had been discovered, or rediscovered, and we had met a hundred times since.

I had seen you in every light. On every continent. I have seen you at your best and at your worst. And every time I was born with the memory of you, I could never let go. I always searched, always looked for you. In a crowd at New Years at Times Square, across the stadium when the Red Sox won the World Series, anywhere and everywhere I went – I was looking for you. Even when I was climbing the Everest and I knew all the members of my team, and there couldn’t possibly be anyone else there, among the white stillness and blinding blue sky – I looked for you.

And I know you did, too. When you were born with the memories, you searched. You traveled. You drew me when you became an artist. You wrote poems about me in the life when you were a poet. You sang songs about me and you poured your dreams of us into your footprint upon history in the hope that I could decipher it one day.

I never expect it. The meeting. It’s impossible to prepare for it. But in whatever lifetime it happens, my breath hitches and my heart is ready to jump out of my chest all the same. And with one look in your blue – the same, always the same blue, electric, sapphire, shining eyes – I know if you remember or not. And if you don’t I know not to push. I know to hold myself back. I know to let you come to me. I know that in every life I will give you the choice. I will give you the freedom to choose us because you want it, not because fate had entwined us together.

Because I love you more than life itself. And every time I want for you to fall in love with me all over again on your own.

And I know that you do it, too. Line for line. Breath for breath. Every time.

So I don’t let myself flinch. I haven’t expected it to be you. And it’s always a surprise. And I know from the first look, I just know, that you don’t remember. It hurts. It always hurts to see your eyes without that light, the light that is only for me. But it’s alright. I remember how it goes. And I will play the part right. Yes, we are drawn to each other and we had been together countless times, and yet… We had missed the chance too many times as well. I know that we’ll meet again beyond this life, too. Sooner or later. But this is here and now. And all I want is to throw myself at you, but I can’t. Not yet.

It’s hard this time.

I didn’t known it would be you.

I never do beforehand.

It’s hard to see you there. So familiar, so close and yet so far. And I know what I have to do, but the knowledge doesn’t make it any easier.

“You’re the _**one**_ … “

I pause. I shouldn’t. I have already wavered too much. But the temptation to let you know, even if you don’t realize it, is too much. So I pause. Just for a second. For the little moment when I can let the mind pain a picture in which you recognize me and answer. But you don’t and the mirage disappears.

“…who burned 300 of my warriors alive.”

You answer.

“You’re the one who send them there to kill us.”

You answer like you always do. Direct. With truth and confidence. And the fear I had for you in this world ebbs away. You elevate yourself, and I missed that quality so yours so much. It’s comforting in a strange way. How odd that this feeling is strange still, even after a thousand times experiencing it.

It takes all my strength not to grin that stupid grin you confessed to love so much. I can’t. I can’t let you see. I have to wear the mask until you remember. And so I do.

“Do you have an answer for me? Clarke of the Sky People.”

I like your name in this life. I like the sound of it. I do. And it’s so tempting to stretch the syllables and add to it, but I can’t.

 _No_. I do _not_ flinch.

I can’t allow myself to.

Not until you remember, too.

Not until _we_ remember.

 


End file.
